


Tender Artery

by choirboyharem



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, One Shot, Parent/Child Incest, Snuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24535411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choirboyharem/pseuds/choirboyharem
Summary: “Ithurts—““I’m sure it does, kitten.” Hawk Moth’s deep, low purr curls in Cat Noir’s ears as he leans on his cane. Cat Noir gasps and coughs, his breathing increasing rapidly. “Oh, I’m sure it does. But you’ve taken worse, haven’t you? I’ve seen you take worse. I’ve seen you take bigger.”
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth
Comments: 22
Kudos: 161





	Tender Artery

**Author's Note:**

> not set anywhere in particular, but it’s decidedly more season one, considering that adrien’s a little younger. mind the tags.

Cat Noir suddenly remembers that Hawk Moth knows he’s a kid. Or, well, not a _kid,_ because, well, duh, he’s not a kid. But Hawk Moth does definitely know that he’s at least underage. Still a teenager. Not old enough to drive yet (as if his father would ever let him). Not old enough to do a lot of things. 

Not old enough for this. Cat Noir is afraid to breathe, worried that if the end of Hawk Moth’s cane digs in any further, it’s going to gore him and his ribs will start to snap under the pressure. The ache deep in his core wraps in tendrils around his bones, rendering them lifeless and too weak to struggle. 

Hawk Moth’s cane digs in further and Cat Noir can feel the screaming protest of his body against it. He chokes, his body giving an electric twitch. “Stop,” he pleads, his voice thick and wet with tears. “It _hurts—“_

“I’m sure it does, kitten.” Hawk Moth’s deep, low purr curls in Cat Noir’s ears as he leans on his cane. Cat Noir gasps and coughs, his breathing increasing rapidly. “Oh, I’m sure it does. But you’ve taken worse, haven’t you? I’ve seen you take worse. I’ve seen you take _bigger.”_ The glint in Hawk Moth’s ice-cold eyes makes a sickening combination of confusion and dread curdle in Cat Noir’s stomach, but before he can even consider what that means, Hawk Moth lifts his cane and drives it back down into Cat Noir’s chest. 

He _screams._ As the end of the cane sinks through his suit, his skin, his _chest,_ Cat Noir screams as the pain blotches out his vision and blooms and throbs in red waves of heat. He can feel it when his ribs give way and crack. He screams so loud that the warehouse’s walls scream back at him. And above it all, Hawk Moth laughs at him. 

“Foolish, tender, delicate prey,” Hawk Moth croons as Cat Noir sobs without tears, the pain trying to force him to black out. “Dear Chat, whatever made you think that you could go after me alone? Your darling Ladybug won’t save you, nor will anyone else. You’re all alone. And what a terrible feeling that is, isn’t it?”

When he drops his cane, it feels even worse. The lack of pressure makes Cat Noir gape and feel cold air in places he shouldn’t, his chest shaking and ruptured. His vision swims. Watery and filmy, he cries and tries to blink it away as Hawk Moth’s dark, towering figure folds. 

“What...” Cat Noir forces out, the very act of speech drawing microthreads of pain through his chest to his throat. He hears a click and a sharp _ting_ of metal that freezes him to the floor. 

A blade caresses his cheek like it loves him. As if he hasn’t already suffered enough, he’s being given yet another reason to feel sick with fear. 

And then another when the blade digs underneath the material of his suit and jerks up, tearing it with a rip that snaps his eyes wide open. 

“No,” Cat Noir mouths. 

Hawk Moth sneers, his switchblade snapping up into the air. Cat Noir feels cold air nip his skin in the most frighteningly intimate place. “Seeing as you’ve made it your _pet project_ to humiliate me for so long, I thought it fitting to return the favor.” 

“No,” Cat Noir rasps, his eyes filling with new tears. He suddenly realizes what this is about. His Adrien brain flickers to life, offering him all-too-vivid memories of photographers and directors and production assistants getting a little too close to him, leering at him, touching him where he shouldn’t be touched. Making him feel embarrassed and shameful and dirty. “Please, y-you can’t—you _can’t,_ I’m only—ngh—“ His chest throbs and seems to vomit blood. It’s so hard to talk. “—I’m fifteen. I-I’m only fifteen.” 

“If you want to play like an adult so badly, kitten, don’t be surprised when you get treated like one.” Cat Noir hears fabric tear further. The blade clicks again. His chest spurts and every breath is undying agony. 

Undying. 

Dying. 

He’s going to die. 

Cat Noir is going to die and Ladybug, trapped in a forcefield by the girl Hawk Moth had Akumatized earlier that day, won’t know until Hawk Moth comes for her. It makes him so angry that he wants to scream so much louder, kick, push, shove, _fight,_ but he can’t _move._ He can’t move and he can’t breathe. 

For a brief moment, he can’t work out in his brain what that sound is that Hawk Moth is making, but he feels the result of it. The slide of slick leather over him, fingers dipping just into a place that both Cat Noir and Adrien have never felt brave enough to touch. 

“Please don’t,” Cat Noir tries to say, barely anything, his mouth making strange shapes that don’t feel like words. “You can’t. H-Hawk—Moth—ngh—please.”

“Please what, _darling?”_ Hawk Moth pulls his hand back, drops his glove, and draws his fingers through the blood on Cat Noir’s chest. Cat Noir convulses, the pain blooming across him in a new blossom like the head of a firecracker. 

He’s trying to swim and his limbs won’t work. He’s bundled. He’s tied in knots. When Hawk Moth pushes two wide, thick fingers into him, he’s aching too much for it to feel like anything more than an intrusion. 

_“Tu es si serré, petit garçon,”_ Hawk Moth hisses. “So tight. You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

Cat Noir can’t answer. His throat is a column full of blood. He spits it up and it dribbles down his face. It spits and sprays and his tongue loses feeling. 

All of him does. Thank whatever otherworldly being who otherwise left him for dead, he’s going numb. His vision is a kaleidoscope, nothing but a meshing of shape and color that spins in front of his eyes. 

Hawk Moth grabs Cat Noir’s hips, yanks him forward, and impales him on his cock. Cat Noir’s eyes roll back as he struggles to make another sound. 

His vision going black. 

Cat Noir goes black. 


End file.
